Classic Poem

Oh! Thou, whose garment is the light,
Whose throne the vaulted sky,
Who spread the curtains of the night,
And hung the stars on high;

Thou, at whose word Creation rose,
In all its bright array;
Though for our eyes no radiance glows,
No living waters play;

We waft the music of our hearts
In gratitude to thee;
For all the beams thy love imparts
Our minds can clearly see!

We see thee in thy sacred truth
By inspiration told;
We see thy hand direct our youth,
And lead us weak and old.

We see thee on our mental eye
The light of science pour,
And for such blessings humbly try
To worship and adore.

Oh! Father, hear our feeble hymn —
Behold us while we pray —
And pierce these helpless orbs, so dim,
With Thy celestial ray!